


Too Cold Outside for Angels to Fly

by jappfrost



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, High School, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Major Illness, Multi, Prostitute!Merlin, baker!Arthur, flangst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-02-12 10:53:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2107119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jappfrost/pseuds/jappfrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an unexpected event leads to Arthur closing Camelot Confectionaries one winter evening, he meets someone he does not realize is from his distant past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. White Lips and Pale Face

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic for this fandom! And I'm all too nervous about posting it. This work is unbeta'ed but I hope that you guys will love it. I enjoyed every single work I've read in this fandom and I'd like to be able to give something in return so here it is! I'll probably be updating it sometime soon (hopefully), but classes may get in the way, but I promise I won't leave this in this unfinished state for too long. ;) Oh, also, I'm from somewhere not London, so please do forgive me for any inaccuracies and I'd love/appreciate it if you can call me out on them so I can make necessary adjustments/corrections. :)

To be honest, it is really all Gwaine’s fault, Arthur thinks. Or perhaps it is his, too tolerating and too understanding that his own employees would have the nerve to leave mid-shift at the Camelot Confectionaries. To be fair, Gwaine’s excuse this time is valid. His girlfriend Elena, one of Arthur’s good friends from uni is taken to the hospital, about to give birth to a child that neither she nor Gwaine had foreseen coming but is otherwise readily accepted.

But this good news does not necessarily mean that Arthur appreciates being the one left behind to clean up at the store, take the money from the register and make sure that all the cooking equipment have been properly stored and the machines turned off. Add to that the heavy snowfall that’s been brewing outside for almost an hour now.

Arthur sighs. It really can’t be helped. Sometimes he just really has to make do with the employees that he has. At least he knows that he can trust them with his life.

He is so busy reflecting on these things while closing the front door of the shop that he hardly noticed the man standing a small distance away from where he is, right in front of the bakery’s display window. When Arthur does notice, he immediately recognizes the man for what he is: a prostitute. The man is tall, probably slightly taller than Arthur himself, even without those abnormally high-heeled boots that he’s been rocking. He has awkwardly huge ears jutting out from the sides of his face and his jet black hair shows signs of being tussled in an effort to make out some sort of style but it still appears totally unruly. He is wearing a black top that looked like a fish net turned shirt to Arthur, seeing dazzlingly pale flesh underneath thin black threads. He has on, tight leather pants that probably hug uncomfortably to his arse and groin but he appears totally at ease with them.

Arthur belatedly realizes that he has been staring. He lifts his gaze up from the man’s arse to his face and his sky blue eyes meet another pair of azure, though this pair seems to appear haunted, tired, and is that recognition? But it quickly lifts, and it is replaced by mirth, seduction and hardiness.

“Hey there handsome,” the prostitute greets Arthur with a wide grin. “Would you like some company this cold evening?” He steps nearer and even if Arthur is tempted to move away, he battles against the urge and he tries to study the features of the man in front of him.

“Do I know you?” The blond asks, choosing to ignore the other’s advances. He quickly sees the uncertainty that passes over the black haired man’s face before it turns yet again into something else entirely. This time, the expression is quizzical, wondering, and innocent.

“I don’t think so.” The man answers. “But I’d be glad to get to know you more.” He winks and motions to grab at Arthur’s arm, which Arthur so rapidly retracts.

This close, Arthur can study the other man’s face, pale white all over, no blush or rosy cheeks. His lips are chapped and purplish. He’s totally freezing out there. No kidding, with his wardrobe choice in this kind of weather.

“You’re cold.” Arthur states, and when asked later why he did what he does next, Arthur would say that he doesn’t know, that there is just that feeling at that moment that this man in front of him, pale and cold from the onslaught of snow, has to be taken care of. He begins to take off his own coat and slides it over the prostitute’s shoulders.

“Wh-what are you doing?” The lanky guy splutters, so unused to this kind of treatment from other people, especially men that he has been trying to seduce for a night of wild sex and monetary gain. But despite his protestations, he does not take the coat off.

“You’re cold.” Arthur repeats. “I don’t think I have it in me to leave anyone unprotected from this terrible snowfall.” He looks up at the sky and extends his arm to catch a falling flake on one of his warmly gloved hands.

Arthur thinks that for what he did, he should be getting at least a thank you from the quite-so-familiar stranger, but what he gets in return is rather unexpected.

The prostitute’s coughing fit is rough, violent. Arthur can hear him cursing for making a fool out of himself in front of a possible customer that is also not half bad-looking. Arthur could have felt pleased at the fact that the guy considered him not bad-looking had it not been for the fact that the other man begins to wretch and a sour stench permeates the young winter night.

“Mate, you’re totally ill. Are you sure you can still… work in your condition?” Arthur places a comforting hand on the other’s back, rubbing circles to soothe the painful bouts of coughing and vomiting. The man nods but from the expression on his face, Arthur can tell that the man’s body feels otherwise.

“Look, clearly you can’t do your thing tonight.” Arthur still couldn’t quite bring himself to say the word. “I’ll walk you to where you live, if you like. I’m Arthur.”

The black haired guy shakes his head and after another coughing fit, he speaks. “No. I can’t go back to my flat. Not yet.” There are tears swimming in the brim of his eyes and Arthur is tempted to wipe them off the beautifully pale face.

“Oh yeah? Why is that?” He asks instead.

Arthur sees the man struggling, deciding whether the question is worth answering or not. “I don’t have enough to pay my rent. That’s why I’m working as early as now. Usually I go out around ten in the evening.” 

“Come with me.” Arthur doesn’t know what came over him. It never occurred to him that he would one day be taking home a prostitute, but here he is, inviting one home!

The man stepped back rather quickly, as if surprised, disbelieving, causing him to twist over his left ankle. He lets out a pained noise and he feels himself falling toward the snow-littered pavement. He awaits the impact but it never came. Around him, the blond man’s arms are supporting his weight and he is relieved of the pain that is sure to come had his face met the cold and wet roadside.

Arthur can feel a sudden stab of intensity as he notices the proximity in which their faces lie. They are so close, and the urge to kiss is so strong for the both of them but Arthur steels himself and turns away.

“You probably hurt yourself with those boots.” Arthur chides, not looking directly at the other man and his voice is an octave higher than he is normally used to. “Honestly, how do you even survive in your business? You’re too sick and too clumsy.” Despite the awkward situation, he feels himself smile as the other man pouts cutely at him.

“Well, I’ll have you know that it’s part of my charm!” The man retorts.

“Good to know that some men take pleasure at having someone cough all over them!” Arthur bites back without real sting. For that though, he receives a glare.

“If only my ankle isn’t so unfortunately sprained, which is your fault by the way, I’d have left you alone by now because of your prattishness.” The man says, pointing a finger accusingly at Arthur. “But seeing that I’ve already been injured, I think I’ll have to take on your offer.” He says with a smile plastered on his pallid features.

“Huh?” Arthur’s brain short-circuited at the grin flashed at him.

“You invited me over to your flat remember?” The prostitute says impatiently. “But you do still have to pay for whatever we will do, alright? And I hope your place is near because my ankle really is killing me.” With that, he hisses as he tries to move his twisted ankle about.

Invited him home? Right. Arthur clears his throat, suddenly dry, he notices, before saying, “I live just a block down the road, really. Can you make it that far?”

The mysterious man’s yet another disarming smile causes Arthur’s heart to do a thousand somersaults in a span of a few seconds before he shakes it out of his system.

The walk to Arthur’s flat is indeed short. And upon entering Arthur’s humble quarters, a place he confesses to the harlot that is all his own, the said man quickly makes himself comfortable on Arthur’s couch. He does a quick scan of the amiable living room before his eyes land on the portrait of an older man with a pretty blonde who is pregnant with child. He knows that this is Arthur’s parents and it is Arthur that’s in the womb of the woman. After all, he has met Arthur’s father before, and it’s quite easy to deduce that the lady is in fact Arthur’s mother, what with the uncanny resemblance and the fact that it is in the flat’s living room.

From where Arthur is standing by the door, he observes the lanky man study the portrait of his parents. He smiles despite himself. He knows that he has allowed a total stranger to his home (though he really does not have any intention at all to do anything – really he is just concerned with how ill the man seems), but he cannot explain why it feels to him that it is so right and totally okay to be in the presence of this guy.

“That’s my mum and my dad.” He shares.

“I know.” So lost in thoughts of the past is the prostitute that he does not realize that he has answered Arthur with something that could possibly reveal too much about who he is.

“What?” Arthur’s eyes narrowed as doubt finally begins to creep into him. “You know them?” At this, the prostitute squirms uneasily on his place by the couch.

“I may have seen your father quite a few times.”

Arthur tries to take this bit of information in. _Is my father a regular customer of this prostitute? When did they meet? How often? Why is he here now?_

“Is that why you’re here?” Arthur asks, venom seeping out into each syllable of his words.

“Arthur, wha-?”

“Did he get tired of using you?” Arthur cuts in. “Did my father? And now he’s passing you on to me?”

“Arthur, it’s not like that-“

“Well I’m sorry to disappoint but I don’t take previously spoiled goods!” Arthur all but shouts, he knows that he’s being unfair but he can’t help lashing out about this. He knows that it’s misplaced anger that’s making him irrational. But when the thought of this man being brought to bed by his own father crosses his mind, he can’t help feeling utterly jealous and disgusted. “Get out!”

“Arthur, I never slept with you father!” The prostitute stands up, favoring his injured appendage. Tears are running down his face and there is hurt shining clearly in his blue irises. “I just met him in school! Back when we were in Albion High! Don’t you remember me?”

Arthur is stunned into silence. A few moments pass without anyone breaking the quite, before Arthur’s guest sighs, visibly slumping. The man gives up the hopes of getting recognized. He limps slowly toward the door but before he gets to open it, he feels Arthur catch up to him and a hand settles on his arm.

“You do look familiar…” Arthur whispers, temper beginning to level. “But I really cannot remember. That was years ago, mate! Care to help me a little bit with the remembering?”

The lanky man laughs, although it is completely devoid of real joy. “I don’t think it’s the years that made you forget who I am. In fact, after tonight, I think you really didn’t even care to know who I was back then. I would always just be that nerdy student with the weather-beaten rag of a jacket to you, that momma’s boy whose dad left him because he’s not worth it, that one who claimed to be a future successful doctor that you always called out on, saying that that was just some silly daydream that would never come to pass, that boy you called faggot all the times you could just because he made the mistake of kissing the best friend he's been crushing on, not knowing that said best friend would be divulging it to everyone in school. I’m Merlin Emrys, Arthur Pendragon, and you were my personal hell.” He looks back to the stunned face of the blond. “I hope that rings a bell.”


	2. Crumbling Like Pastries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur remembers Merlin, and this is a flashback to their early encounters in life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Sorry for the very long delay. School is almost up! The semester's nearing its end! Just a few more exams and I'll be finally free to work on this. :)
> 
> 2\. Saying that, it's finals week and instead of studying for exams, I'm on my laptop typing away for this fic.
> 
> 3\. This fic is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine and I have not gone over it either so there may be some loopholes in the storyline or something so please do point it out if you see one.
> 
> 4\. This isn't britpicked either. I'm Asian and is totally unfamiliar with the more intricate details of British culture so please do forgive me if you find several instances where the characters act or speak 'un-British' like.
> 
> 5\. This chapter is a flashback where we see the first few interactions of Merlin and Arthur as high school boys.
> 
> 6\. Please do review after reading! Criticism or whatnot are definitely welcome! :)

Hearing the other man's name brings memories back to the forefront of Arthur's mind. They are scenes early on in his life that he thought he has already gotten over with. Apparently, he still knows, still remembers, as clear as day, the worst decisions that he has made in his life.

-

_Arthur saunters through the school grounds like he is king, and by all means, he actually is. As the son of the school director, ace striker of the football team, and straight A’s kid, everybody looks up to him, envies him, or fears him._

_But walking through the hallways with an arrogant air is all an act. For all that he is tall and mighty, he fears his friends on the team. They are the school bullies, using popularity as an excuse to abuse and make fun of whoever they fancy as a target, most often, the so called fags. Arthur knows in himself that he too can be classified as a fag, but no one knows that he is, so he keeps quiet and joins along with the bullying._

_Then one day, Merlin comes along. For a male, he is pretty, tall and lithe. His mop of black hair is messy but Arthur finds it incredibly adorable. His ears are big and Arthur has to make an effort controlling himself not to nibble on them. That will not do. That will expose him to the world as the freaking homo that he is. He has to keep away._

_It does not help at all that they have a lot of the same classes and is even paired for a project in one of them. Instead of creating distance, they are developing bridges, learning more and more about the other more as months go by. Nearing two months of bickering and studying together, Arthur is loath to admit that Merlin has wormed his way through him already. Arthur thinks he actually has a friend in Merlin._

_-_

_It all ends one night at the Pendragon flat. Merlin’s been over Arthur’s place for quite a number of times and has since been comfortable in Arthur’s room. They are lying on their stomachs, trying to crunch up some of their math homework but hopelessly failing what with all the horseplay that they have been having. One thing leads to another and all of a sudden, Merlin kissed Arthur fleetingly on the lips._

_It is only a short kiss but it is enough to make Arthur panic. He wants it, gods he has wanted it for quite some time now, but he just cannot have it or else his reputation will be brought down to the gutters. He pushes Merlin away and the other boy falls to the floor, head hitting the soft pelted floor._

_“Merlin! What the hell?” Arthur shouts, trying to wipe away the remnants of the kiss on his lips, when what he wants more than anything is to imprint it in his mind forever._

_“Arthur, I-“ Merlin stutters as he sits up. “I thought you liked me too… I’m sorry. I must have read the signs wrong.” Arthur sees him look down and bite his lips, tears swimming dangerously in his eyes._

_“Yes. You read me wrong” Arthur tells him, but really, Merlin couldn’t have been any more on point. “Now I want you to get out!”_

_Arthur hears Merlin gasp and he knows that he has broken another man’s heart, not at all too kindly, but harshly and painfully. He sighs and slumps back on the bed and listens as the other boy all but runs through the doors and out of his house in a matter of seconds._

_“Well, we really shouldn’t have been friends in the first place.” Arthur thinks. “Well at least it did not get to the point where my mates would begin to question our closeness. It’s better to have it ended now than later.” He tries to convince himself but it still leaves him completely hollow and restless through the night._

_-_

_The next day at school makes everything all the worse. Merlin comes up to the footballers’ table at lunch, eyes rimmed with tears that are threatening to flow any moment now._

_“Arthur…” Merlin says to him weakly, frightened but trying to be brave. He knows that going up to Arthur while he is with his footie friends is borderline suicide. Arthur has warned him before not to talk to him when the other athletes are around. They are arses, Arthur told him once. Merlin used to think that that excludes Arthur, but now he thinks he isn’t after all. The blond does not even turn his head to his direction._

_“Is the fag bothering you, Arthur?” One of the footballers, Valiant, asks Arthur. Merlin sees Arthur tense but Merlin is not deterred._

_“I want to talk to you about last night,” he soldiers on. Arthur slams his fist on the table and everything in the cafeteria goes quiet. Merlin himself is shut up._

_“You should go away, Merlin.” Arthur says, finally looking up at Merlin. “Do me a favor and keep your filthy faggot mouth of here. You should not have kissed me last night. That was totally disgusting. I’m not a fairy, okay. Go away.”_

_To say that Merlin is shocked is an understatement. He is gobsmacked. For a minute he is stunned into silence but he quickly recovers. “That was uncalled for, you complete and utter prat!” He turns around, tears finally falling out and he tries to run away – run away from judging eyes, menacing words and jeering spectators._

_-_

_Merlin debates over whether he goes to school or not the next Monday. He is sure that the entire school is already aware of his being a freak, a freak who has kissed none other than the alpha of the school, the king in all but name, Arthur Pendragon. And he has been humiliated. But then he thinks of his mother and how he promised her that he would study hard and work hard to become the doctor that she said she’s envisioned him to become. He thinks of his uncle Gaius and how he works extra hard just to feed both him and Merlin and he knows that he cannot put off going to school just because some guy has shamed him in front of everyone else._

_When he gets to school, he already feels the stares on his back and the whispers that blossom behind him as he passes through the corridors to his classes. He tries his best not to mind, but it’s painful, hearing nasty names called out to his direction. He may be gay but he is not as lewd as what the school makes him out to be._

_Other than that, everything is fine, really. Except when dismissal rolls over and the footballers have dragged him all the way to an empty classroom._

_“Disgusting queer,” Valiant sneered on top of him as one of the other boys punched him in the stomach. “Make sure he gets what he deserves, Cenred.”_

_And the other boy smacked him on the face mercilessly. “Don’t worry Val. Nobody gets away with trying to faggotize one of us.”_

_Despite the hurt, Merlin couldn’t help laughing at that. Here he is, in an empty room, with several boys beating him up and all he can think of is how stupid they could be that they would make up a word such as ‘faggotize.’_

_A kick in the stomach and he coughs up some blood._

_“What’s so funny, huh?” Merlin hears someone say and he freezes, recognizing that rich tone that can only be Arthur’s. He looks up and just as he thought, he sees the blond guy of his dreams looming over him. There is a flash of worry on his face, probably because of the blood that he had just expelled through his mouth. But when their eyes connect, it shifts to a guarded look. Then he feels another pain in his stomach, and this time, the kicking does not stop._

_“You think you have the right to kiss me and just laugh it off, huh? You think it’s funny? Put your filthy faggot mouth elsewhere you fucking queer!” Merlin hears Arthur shout and somehow, from the tone of Arthur’s voice, he knows it’s all forced. But he cannot help feeling hurt. The words are as sharp as glass shards and it keeps slicing through his heart. He thought that they are friends at the very least. He knows what he has done is wrong. He shouldn’t have kissed Arthur. But must he make him suffer so?_

_He cried as insult after insult is thrown at him. He cried as they stripped him bare and ripped his clothes to unusable tatters. He cried as they spoke of him being a bastard child. He cried as they told him that no one fag as poor as he could ever become anything, much less a doctor. And he cried for Arthur, who he knows does not want this more than he does. He tries to understand Arthur, he really does. The pressure he is feeling, why he feels the need to keep up pretenses of being an arrogant pillock when he in reality, he is just a really sweet boy who has captured Merlin’s heart._

_And then he stops crying as blackness envelops him._

_-_

_He wakes up to the soft beeping of a machine by the bedside. He realizes he is in a hospital ward, and his mom is asleep by a chair near his bedside. He struggles to sit up but he hisses as he feels the stabs of pain that the beating has no doubt inflicted upon him._

_The soft sound he makes wakes his mother up and she quickly stands up to assist him on his quest to be in a sitting position._

_“Merlin, my boy, how are you feeling?” His mother, Hunith, asks._

_He keeps quiet. He is at a loss for words._

_“Do you want to tell me what happened?” She asks and Merlin cringes as memories of the beating come plaguing his mind again. He shakes his head and he sobs._

_“Hush now, little darling,” Hunith is quick to rub circles on Merlin’s back, comforting the boy with warmth and affection. “It’s alright. I’m here. No one’s going to hurt you anymore.”_

_They stay this way for a while, Merlin crying and Hunith placating him. Merlin never learned how much time has passed before he spoke the only words that have been on his mind since getting that first punch to the stomach from Cenred._

_“I don’t want to go back to school anymore.” And as he says that, he curses himself inwardly as images of a beautiful blond boy invade his mind._


	3. The Worst Things in Life Come Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin gets hurt again and Arthur has to confront his feelings and face the realities of his sexuality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry!!!
> 
> It took so long for me to update this. :( I sort of lost the steam to write this down but I hate the feeling of having an unfinished work so I persevered and I was able to churn out a continuation! By all means, please feel free to comment your thoughts about it at the end. If you see errors, please don't hesitate and point it out to me too. I'm pretty sure there's a lot since this is an unbeta'ed work.
> 
> Thank you!!!

It may have only been a few seconds but it seem to Arthur and Merlin that time stood still. Neither one of them breaks the silence until they are both jolted back to the present by the ringing of Arthur’s phone.

“You should probably answer that.” Merlin diverts his gaze once more to the portrait on the wall, his face contemplative but sad.

“M-Merlin I-” Arthur stutters and sighs. He doesn’t know what to say, and frankly he needs a few minutes to collect himself for this. He answers his phone.

“Hello?” He inquires.

“Hey Arthur!” The voice on the other end greets and Arthur smiles despite himself. It’s Gwaine. He quickly glances at Merlin and he realizes that the other man is making no effort in hiding that he is listening in. Arthur turns around, more to hide the grin that’s building up on his face than to keep the conversation from Merlin. He thinks it’s awkward, to smile and to have a little joy, when your present company is having none of that. 

“Hey Gwaine. What’s up?” He says without whispering. It’s weird but it doesn’t seem to him that Merlin listening in equates to an invasion of privacy.

“ Elena’s done it! We’re going to name her Elaine, you know, like a combination of Elena and Gwaine. You have to see her! She’s such an angel! You’ll have to be the godfather, Arthur, and you cannot say no! I forbid it!” Gwaine is shouting through the phone and Arthur has to move the phone away from his ear to avoid hearing damages.

Arthur laughs. His employee cum friend is obviously over the moon with the recent events in his life. Who would have thought that Mr. Shag Everything with Legs could be tied down by the equally foolhardy Elena? “Easy there, Gwaine. You know I’m all up for that. Can’t wait to meet the little devil.”

“Oi! Don’t go calling my little angel a devil!” Gwaine cries cheerily on the other end. “You may be my boss but don’t think for a second that you can insult my baby! Speaking of work, can I get a few days off? I need to see to it that Elena’s well enough after the pregnancy. You know she didn’t have it easy.”

Arthur curses internally at that request. He knows that Gwaine knows that he’s too softhearted to deny him this request. Just the thought of poor Elena and Elaine together in a hospital ward and the nursery turns Arthur’s heart into a puddle of goo. “Damn you, Gwaine. For how long? Surely you know that we’re undermanned at the bakery as it is.”

“I’ll be off at most a week, I think. Or at least as long as Elena’s well enough on her own, I guess.” Gwaine answers. “Surely Lance or Cenred can take over my shift?”

Arthur tries to mentally recall the schedule of the two mentioned employees. Lance, surely is out of the question, he’s requested a leave just yesterday, for goodness sake. He has pleaded for some time off so that he can finally take his wife Gwen into a long overdue honeymoon in Spain. “You can’t have forgotten that Lance’s in Spain with Gwen for their honeymoon right? So that just leaves me with Cenred, and you know how I’ve been planning to actually-”

The sound of a ceramic aesthetic crashing down on the floor caused Arthur to stop midsentence, and to turn swiftly in place, giving himself an almost whiplash in the process.

“Arthur? Are you all right?” Arthur hears Gwaine’s concerned voice. “I heard something break. Did something happen? Arthur?”

Arthur wasn’t hearing Gwaine though. He drops his phone carelessly on the ground as he rushes to where Merlin is kneeling on the ground, his hands bleeding profusely.

“What on earth happened?” Arthur asks, panic rising to his chest.

“I-I was just admiring the china, touching it, feeling the texture, but then I heard you say his name and… I don’t know. I just cringed on impulse and it toppled over.” Merlin explains, expression unreadable, his eyes looking at the flow of blood from his cut open palm. “I tried to catch it, but cracked at my grip and must have grazed my palm.”

“Grazed? Are you kidding me?” Arthur is livid with concern. “That’s more than just a graze! You’re bleeding heavily for Christ’s sake!” He moves back to where he has dropped his phone. He can still hear Gwaine’s panicked voice on the other side.

“Arthur, god damn it. Answer me, or I’ll call 999.” The man on the other end says.

“Hey Gwaine. You do that.” Arthur acquiesces, trying to calm his racing mind. “I have a guest over and he’s knocked off one of the china and cut open his palm. He’s bleeding a lot. I’m going to try to stem the blood rush so please call emergency?”

“That’s… shit. Okay, Arthur. I got ya.” Gwaine says, all serious now. Arthur cuts the line and rushes to the kitchen to get some towels to clean Merlin up and to have something that can ebb the outflow of his blood.

“Gods Merlin, you really have no sense of self-preservation do you?” Arthur calls out in frustration, remembering that moment the other man- just a boy then- bravely walked up to the jocks’ table in their cafeteria to talk to Arthur.

“If you’d bothered to really get to know me, even then, you’d know that’s not true.” Merlin says grimly and Arthur immediately regrets even opening his mouth for that stupid question. “You don’t know what I’ve been through.”

Arthur contemplates between apologizing and helping but ultimately he decides to go for the latter. “I may not know what you’ve been through, but I know you’re going through severe blood loss right now and I’m going to help you through it.”

He moves forward and takes Merlin’s injured hand to his own. He wipes at it with the kitchen towel helplessly, earning him a few hisses from Merlin.

“It’s bleeding too fast for just an ordinary cut.” Arthur notes, panic doubling over.

“Must have hit a vein or artery or something.” Merlin adds in nonchalantly. “If that’s the case then in five minutes, I’m as good as dead.”

Arthur takes in Merlin’s words and finds out that he does not like what he heard. “Shut up Merlin. I won’t let that happen.” And just like that, it seems to Arthur that they are back at being best friends, before the entire first kiss debacle ever happened. No fights, no hurts, no awkwardness between them. “Now raise your arm. It would help slow down the flow. The paramedics are coming soon, I promise.”

And just as he says it, they hear the sirens wailing outside.

“Now, let’s get you up and out of here.” Arthur assists Merlin up, injured leg and injured hand and all, and they walk toward the door. When they get there, Arthur stoops down and retrieves his shoes. “Hold on, here. Take a pair of my shoes. Yours obviously isn’t comfortable enough.”

Merlin takes all of this in a haze. He’s getting dizzy from all the blood he’s losing. Huh. The cut must be terribly deep.

“Why are you doing this?” He asks as Arthur’s carefully placing his feet in a pair of blue sneakers.

“What?” The other man asks, clearly focused on his task. 

There is a knock on the door. It must be the paramedics.

“Why are you helping me?” Merlin asks again, as Arthur opens the door. Once he does, he looks back at Merlin contemplatively.

“I’m really not sure, Merlin. Really not sure.” He says, shaking his head, his expression strained as if he’s really confused about the motivations to his actions. “But I do feel like I owe it to you, after everything. And I can’t let you, or anyone for that matter, die if I can help it.”

Merlin is about to reply to that, to tell Arthur that he doesn’t need his pity. But he knows it’s useless to say so, he knows that he does need- no, want- Arthur to realize how much pain and suffering he has brought onto Merlin. So all he mutters is a silent “Thanks.”

Then after that, it is a flurry of questions from the paramedics. What happened? What time did the incident occur? Is the sprained ankle related to the incident?

Soon, they find themselves in the same hospital where Gwaine and Elena are and the former meets Arthur at a lobby where he is instructed to wait by a surgeon who presents himself as the one to fix up Merlin’s lacerated vein.

“Man, what the hell happened?” Gwaine asks worriedly, though there is still a bounce to his movement, evidence of the unadulterated joy of being a father. “Who’s got injured? Is it Morgana?”

Arthur sighs but he gives Gwaine a slight smile. “Nah. Morgana’s fine. It’s… a friend from high school.” He explains. “You know, long time no see and all that, so I invited him over.”

“What’s his name?” Gwaine asks.  
Arthur wonders how Gwaine knows it’s a guy. Probably he has just guessed but that doesn’t really matter. “Name’s Merlin.”

“Haven’t told me about him before, eh?” Gwaine pushes as he sits beside Arthur.

“We… weren’t really that close.” Arthur lies, and by the looks of it, Gwaine doesn’t buy his explanation either. Thankfully he doesn’t push it.

They sit there in comfortable silence for a while before Arthur remembers about Elena.

“Shouldn’t you be with Elena right now?” Arthur asks.

“Yeah, but she’s resting now, and the baby’s at the nursery, so I have a few minutes to spare.” Gwaine grins at him. “Just had to check up on my man. I was worried about you, you know?”

Arthur looks at Gwaine’s honest expression at him and quickly he thought of the what could have beens if he has ever fallen for this man. He’s reckless, sure, but he’s a good man, deep down.

But no, all he feels for Gwaine is a deep-seated friendship born of years of hardships in uni together and now with the same confectionery store that they work in (or in Arthur's case, own). There is nothing more to it than that.

And really, if Arthur’s going to be honest, he’s never fallen in love with anyone. Else. Yes. He’s admitting it now, and he probably should have admitted it years ago, but he has only ever fallen for that big-eared boy who used to be his best friend. But he was too afraid, too stupid, to see it for what it was. Now he regrets it. And he wants to change things, wants to make up for everything he has done wrong to Merlin. He wants to apologize and admit that he was scared, and that he was in love with him. He wants to tell him how that kiss was the most amazing thing he ever felt, no matter how short and innocent it was, but that it was also the most daunting thing he has ever experienced, that he felt exposed and that all the walls he has built around him to preserve his image as the popular straight jock were crumbling down to oblivion.

He’s still a coward though. Up to this moment, he cannot admit that he is gay. Not to his family, and not to his friends. He doesn’t know if he ever will. But will Merlin’s presence change that? Can he do it? For Merlin? For himself?

“Penny for your thoughts, Arthur.” Gwaine’s laughter brings Arthur back to the present. “Oh good, welcome back to the world of the living.”

Arthur chuckles. Trust Gwaine to make him see light in the situation. “You know you use that phrase whenever one’s just come out of unconsciousness, don’t you?”

“Well, for a second there, mate, you did seem like you were unconscious.” Gwaine states. “So far away and all of that. I was calling you for like two minutes there.”

“Heh, sorry.” Arthur shrugs. “But really, Gwaine, thanks for the help. Merlin wouldn’t have survived if not for you. And sorry if I’ve put a damper on what could have been the best night of your life, what with the baby and all that.”

“S’all right, boss.” Gwaine says, standing up. “Hope that it more than covers up for the days I’ll be missing at work though.” He jokes, winking at Arthur. “Better go back to the missus now. Catch up on you later, Arthur.”

“Yeah, Gwaine. Thanks a lot, man.” Arthur says as he watches that other man leave. He rests his head on the wall behind him to get some much needed rest. An hour more before Merlin’s surgery is over. He should catch up on some sleep.

And later, when Merlin’s okay, they will have to talk.


	4. Slowly Sinking, Wasting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is confronted and Merlin gets some love and care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry! I'm not sure if this chapter's any good. :(
> 
> Please do point out if you notice anything wrong with my work! Thank you!!!
> 
> Also, in case you haven't noticed or are not aware of it, the working title of this fic is from The A Team by Ed Sheeran. So are the chapter titles.

The slap comes with a force a freight train speeding at a thousand kilometers per hour, instantly jolting Arthur out of what can only have been a few minutes of sleep. He is prepared to give his aggressor a piece of his mind once his shock has abated and he has gotten a hold on his bearing but when his eyes land on a frail old woman, his face becomes paler, save for that cheek that is starting to redden.

Had it not been for recent events, he will not have remembered her either, but with the re-entry of Merlin in his life, it is no surprise that his mother, Hunith, will come bounding in immediately right after. But her usually cheerful and doting countenance is missing, and in its place is a scowl and a glare so venomous that Arthur knows he’s dead.

“Hunith!” He greets, voice cracking, and there is a tiny quiver to his voice that lets out that he is absolutely terrified. He isn’t even sure if it is wise to have called her using her first name.

“Haven’t you done enough harm?” Hunith spits out, venom enveloping her words. “You’ve brought nothing but pain for my Merlin!”

“Mrs. Emrys, I didn’t –“

“I knew Merlin shouldn’t have taken that job at that convenience store he was talking about.” Hunith speaks over Arthur. “Merlin going back here at Camelot’s a big mistake. I should have helped him look for a job in Ealdor than risk him bumping in to you, and now that I didn’t, look where it’s got him!”

Convenience store? So Merlin isn’t being completely honest with his mother. Well, considering the nature of his ‘job,’ Arthur isn’t surprised.

“He cut his palm, Mrs. Emrys. I didn’t –“

“Don’t you think I know what happened to my son?” Hunith points a finger right in front of Arthur’s face and he flinched involuntarily. “He’s injured his hand, no doubt because of you! Now, I don’t want to see you here, Arthur. So please leave, before I lose my temper even more.” Hunith’s rage is deflating. She’s more tired now than angry.

“I’d just like to see if he’s okay, please?” Arthur manages to say quickly before Hunith can cut him off for a third time. “Just that. And then, I’ll leave. I promise.”

Hunith seems to struggle with Arthur’s request for a second, but in the end she shakes her head. “No, Arthur. I’m sorry. You’ll have to leave now. I don’t think I can tolerate your presence now, after what you’ve done to Merlin.”

And what more can Arthur do at that? He really has no right to force himself there, no matter that it is him who brought Merlin there. He’s done him much harm and his whole life has gone astray because of Arthur’s foolish choices and actions.

He stands up and leaves, only looking back at Hunith once. She can’t seem to meet his eyes, and her mouth is set on a grim line. Arthur knows she hates having rows with other people. She is much too kind and much too gentle to ever have a shouting match with anyone. But it’s her son on the line after all, so all that softness have gone out of the window the moment she thinks she’s within the vicinity of her son’s aggressor.

Arthur wishes that he can explain to her that this time, it isn’t his fault. But it doesn’t seem like the right thing to say to her now. What? Hunith, your son was clumsy enough to pick up a broken shard of china. It wasn’t my fault. And considering his track record with Merlin, he doubts that Hunith would appreciate him passing the blame on Merlin, even if that is the truth.

Or is it? Didn’t Merlin say he heard Arthur mention a name? Whose name was that?

Oh.

Cenred. It figures that Merlin would flinch at the mention of one of his high school tormentors. 

Arthur sighs. He wishes he could have fired the man a long time ago, at the same time he fired Valiant. Those two have been nothing but trouble for Arthur, and he knows it. He’s only kept them around as company because it builds up his defensive wall of masculinity. So that no one can doubt that he is straight. But months before, he’s caught Valiant pilfering through the cash register at Camelot Confectionaries and he confronted him on the spot. Now he’s only left with Gwaine, Lancelot and Cenred to help him with the business.

But Cenred’s cocky and rude too. If only he has enough people to work for him, he would have fired him too. Arthur does not want to be associated with them anymore. It reminds him too much of a painful past.

As he walks his way to the bus stop, he resolves to fire the man the next day, undermanned bakery or not.

\---

Starch white walls and an air of antiseptic wakes Merlin from a drug-induced sleep. For a second, he struggles to place where he is, but then, quick as lightning, the recent events all came rushing back to his head. He’s been injured, almost dying. He’s losing consciousness and there’s a blond man with him on a vehicle – the ambulance.

Arthur.

He sits up, looking around wildly. But instead of finding Arthur, he sees his mother sleeping on a chair beside his bed instead.  
“Mother!” He exclaims.

Hunith tilts her head slightly and then their eyes meet.

“Merlin!” She jolts up quickly. “You’re awake! How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling okay, mum.” Merlin answers, after a moment. “My right arm’s throbbing a bit, though.”

“You’ve just undergone a minor surgery to tie up the opened veins, my boy.” Hunith runs her hand through his hair with one hand and the other finds Merlin’s healthy han and squeezes it. “Though you could still have died had you not been at the hospital within a few minutes.”

“Thanks to Arthur.”

“What?” Hunith’s relieved expression turns serious. “What about Arthur?”

“He brought me here?” Merlin answers her, though dubiously, since he may have been a little out of it with all the lost blood. “He called 999?”

“No. According to hospital records, that’s a man named Gwaine Greene.” Hunith replies, confusion knitting her brows together.

“Who?” Merlin asks back. “I don’t know any Gwaine. Oh, he’s the man on the phone with Arthur. Mom, Arthur asked him to call the hospital.”

“He just doesn’t want to be responsible in the event that you die, Merlin.” Hunith says. “He’d hurt you and then take you the hospital. Some man, that Arthur is.” She’s bitter, and obviously angry.

“But I hurt myself.” Merlin explains. “I dropped his decorative china and cut myself trying to save it from falling.”

Hunith looks at Merlin. “Really? You’re not just defending him?” Merlin shakes his head. “Cause I know you, Merlin. You’re too forgiving.”

“No, mum. It really is my fault.” Merlin sighs.

And then Merlin suffers from a coughing fit. Damn, cold winter nights.

“Are you okay?” Hunith inquires worriedly. “I mean, aside from the hand injury, are you sick?”

“Was ill. Been working hard at work, you see.” A smooth lie. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Hm. Well you better ask your boss for a few days off.” Hunith harrumphs.

Merlin nods at that. _I have no boss, mum. I’m a prostitute._ Merlin thinks to himself.

“But why would you be at his place at such a late hour?” Hunith asks, pushing Merlin back to lie on the bed.

“Huh? Arthur’s? Er, we just met on the street and…” Merlin struggles. He can’t very well tell Hunith about his real job. “… well we thought that we’d better reconnect and mend old wounds.” He finishes lamely.

Hunith is readjusting the bed so she doesn’t see Merlin bite his lip, as he is wont to do whenever he fumbles his words while lying. At the mention of mending old wounds though, she stops abruptly with what she is doing and looks at Merlin. “Really? And what did he say?” She’s dubious, and rightfully so.

“He said he is sorry, mum.” Merlin lies, and then cough escapes him. “It’s mostly Valiant and Cenred then, anyway.”

“That’s not what you were telling me then.” Hunith narrows her eyes. “Don’t lie to me, Merlin. I care about you a great deal, so I’d like to know as much truth as I can. How can I fight for you if you’re not going to be honest with me? I’m your mother. Are you sure Arthur didn’t hurt you?”

Merlin diverts his eyes. He doesn’t even know why he’s lying on Arthur’s behalf. Maybe it’s the sudden show of kindness from Arthur the previous night that eradicated all the resentment he’s had for him, so he lies on. “Arthur was there, yes. And though he didn’t physically hurt me then, it was the fact that he was there that hurt most, mom. He was a friend and he betrayed me, letting his friends hurt me, but he didn’t join in. He was even reluctant to be in there. He had to keep pretenses, mum. He’s too up high on the social circle to be seen stopping the beating of the school nerd. And no, it wasn’t his fault last night either.”

Hunith still stares at him with doubt but she lets it go. “Did he tell you all this? Last night?” She asks. “You got to talk?”

Merlin nods.

“So I shouldn’t have asked him to leave?” Hunith asks again. At Merlin’s confused look, she continues, “He stayed here, last night. He was waiting for you to get out of surgery but I practically shoved him out because I figured you wouldn’t want him to be here when you wake up. Guess I was wrong.”

Merlin is speechless. Arthur waited for him? But why? Taking him to the hospital was enough but staying? What reason could Arthur possibly have to sit around and wait for him?

“How did you find out, anyway?” Merlin asks. “That I was in surgery?”

“Dear boy, I’m your next of kin.” Hunith laughs, attention diverted from their previous topic. “The hospital called me, naturally. Now imagine what kind of horror you’ve put your mother through, young man. I almost had a heart attack with worry!”

Although she says all that jokingly, Merlin knows that it isn’t any less true and he hates making his mother worry. “I’m sorry, mom.” He apologizes.

“Oh, it’s alright now, my dear. At least you’re safe.” She hugs him. “Just don’t let me go through that kind of horror a third time, okay? I’m not sure if I can handle yet another life and death emergency with you.” Hunith smiles at him fondly.

“Yes, mum.” Merlin can only smile back.

They stay like that for a few moments before Merlin’s stomach rumbles and they both laugh loudly at that.

“I’ll go and get you something to eat.” Hunith releases Merlin from their tight embrace. “Just keep yourself comfortable here for a while. You’re cleared to go out after a couple more hours.”

“Alright, mum.”

He sighs a small melancholy sigh once the door closes with a soft thud.

Right now, he thinks, he badly wants to talk to Arthur. There's a plethora of feelings in his heart that he does not understand, and only a talk with the man himself can ever make him see it clearly. Part of him wants to reignite their friendship and yet part of him is wary that Arthur's still his haughty and condescending self but the way he cared for Merlin the previous night tells him that Arthur has changed and has outgrown his prattish ways.

And most of all, a part of him still wants to have something more with Arthur. Something bigger than friendship.

He mulls over everything as he waits for his mum to get back.


End file.
